good right along with the bad, and all the stuff in between—and I make no effort to hide the fact that, despite everything, I still care.
“We put her in a cell for her own safety while we did the paperwork and got a rep from the detention center en route. She calmed down after a few minutes. Started working Rasmussen and me.” He shakes his head. “I swear, if I hadn’t seen her go after you, I never would have believed she was capable of that kind of violence.”
“It’s ironic,” I say. “Of all the people who were hurt or killed in the course of this case, the one who is most guilty is the one I can’t stop thinking about. Not Mose. Not the parents or the uncle. But Salome.”
“You were a young Amish girl once, Kate.”
“I think that blinded me to the things I should have seen.”
“You’re nothing like her,” he says after a moment.
I look away, take a sip of tonic. “Where did they take her?”
“Lucas County.”
I nod. I’m familiar with the juvenile facility. “It’s a good one. She’ll get help and won’t get lost in the system.”
His gaze cuts to mine. “Bullshit aside, if she’s dangerous, they’ll find a way to keep her.”
“What do you think will happen to her baby?”
“It’ll go through the courts. If she’s tried as an adult, I suspect the child will go to foster parents and eventually be adopted permanently.”
“Probably the best thing.”
“If you hadn’t done what you did, she would have gotten away with murdering her entire family.” He frowns at me. “Think about that while you’re beating yourself up tonight.”
“I’m not planning on beating myself up.” I smile. “Promise.”
“How long until you’re reinstated?”
“A few days. Maybe a week.”
He nods. Chris Isaak fades into an old Goo Goo Dolls song that makes me think about how small our lives are in the scope of things.
“What time do you have to be at the office tomorrow?” I ask.
“I’ve got a deposition at seven.” He glances at his watch, sighs.
“You’d better get going if you want to get any sleep.”
“I should.” But he makes no move to get up.
Instead, he stares at me so long, I have to resist the urge to squirm. “I don’t know what you’re thinking,” I say.
“I was just thinking sleep’s way overrated.” Sliding out of the booth, he takes my hand, pulls me out, and we head toward the door.
ALSO BY LINDA CASTILLO
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
BREAKING SILENCE. Copyright © 2011 by Linda Castillo. All rights reserved.
